poetry

New Year Resolution 2021

“The sad truth about humanity…is that people believe what they’re told. Maybe not the first time, but by the hundredth time, the craziest of ideas just becomes a given.”
Neal Shusterman

My new year resolution
Will be different this year,
As I feel I’m missing out
On the panic and fear,
So I’m abandoning critical thinking,
And instead of being challenged by that,
I’m going out to buy
A dumbing-down hat.

Then I can be taken in
By all of the media hype,
Believe the relentless propaganda,
All the BS and tripe
And I won’t form the opinions
That I used to keep,
I can just nod in agreement,
Become one of the sheep.
I’ll stop all of my questioning,
Just learn to accept,
And worship the politicians
Even though they’re inept.
Forget about their manifestos
That they choose never to follow,
And all the promises they make
That turn out to be hollow.
I’ll appreciate that Covid
Is just the worst thing ever,
And destroying our economies
Was really so very clever.
I’ll believe in “the science”,
Pretend it really exists,
Instead of wanting to throw things,
Or slit my wrists!
I’ll pretend that CO2
Causes the planet to warm,
And that we’ll all be dead soon
If we fail to conform.
Believe that renewable energy
Is not all about money,
And claiming that it’s “green”
Is not all that funny.
Imagine that Extinction Rebellion
Is not really extreme,
The child Greta is not as ridiculous
As she might always seem.
Accept the BLM movement
Could be about race,
And demonstrations of subservience
Really are not a disgrace.
That the social media giants
Are not a dangerous breed,
And that my personal privacy
Is not something I need.
That being politically correct
Is a must at all times,
And not following the narrative
Is the worst of all crimes.
That our freedom speech
Has no right to be free,
And our thoughts need correcting
Quite radically ……..
Hold on for a minute,
Stop just where you are!
Being turned into ‘woke’
Will be one step too far.
By wearing the hat
Perhaps the cost is too high,
How can I meekly accept
Without asking why?

Happy 2021
May the ‘thoughts’ be with you.

A New Age

“Power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely” Lord Acton

Are fear and ignorance
The foundations for a new age?
Instead of enjoying our freedom
Would we rather live in a cage?
Economies destroyed,
Societies deranged,
For an illusion of safety
Our liberty exchanged.
Democracy obliterated,
Has taken centuries to achieve,
Crushed by the false gods
That we choose to believe,
Who have taken unlawful powers
That absolutely corrupt them;
But in this new age of fear
Where’s the courage to disrupt them?

I Am A Contrarian

I am a contrarian,
A skeptic through and through,
Don’t follow the narrative,
Like I’m told I must do.
I am my own person,
Not some left wing classification,
And I believe in free speech,
But not the Marxist interpretation.
I’ve retained my sense and reason,
Not been politically corrected,
And by the woke ideology
I’ve not been infected.
A critical thinker at heart,
When critical thoughts aren’t allowed,
Not in awe of the media,
By their brainwashing not cowed.
Consider myself an empiricist,
Doesn’t mean I lack emotions,
I just don’t confuse them with facts,
Coming up with ridiculous notions.
An environmentalist as well,
In the true meaning of the word,
Not a climate change disciple,
Following a religion that’s absurd.
Not frightened by debate,
Don’t need to call people a name,
Don’t feel responsible for our past,
Not looking for someone to blame.
I used to be one of many,
Perhaps now one of the few,
Just shows what dumbing-down
And indoctrination can do.
Being a questioner and a thinker
Makes me a strange kind of man,
But I’ve no plans to change,
Proud to be a contrarian.
TOOTG Copyright 2016-2020 01

The Garden at Stone Cottage

“Life begins the day you start a garden”
Chinese Proverb

The garden at Stone Cottage
Is such a magical place,
It wraps around our home
Like a scarf around a face.
Despite the heat and the dry
And the wind, it still thrives,
As it demands our attention
And helps shape our lives;
A true reflection of us,
Of our efforts and care,
So generous in returning
All the love that we share,
Teaching us about nature,
Of its fascinating ways,
Watching our garden evolve,
Surely the most special of days.

IMG_20170703_092005

But there’s so much more to the garden
Than just the plants and the trees
Its insects attract the birds,
Its flowers draw the bees,
So the garden is never still,
Always movement for the eye,
Whether a breeze rippling through,
A visiting bird or butterfly,
Or a bee hard at work
As it moves from flower to flower,
Mesmerising us
For hour after hour;
A world within a world,
Where from stress we are free,
Our garden at Stone Cottage,
There’s no better place to be.

The Reading Room

Sometimes there’s the need to close all the doors,
The outside world’s nonsense, shut out, put on pause;
Settle down with a book in a comfortable chair,
And spend a hour or two just relaxing there.

TPOTG Reading Room 02

In a favourite room, in a favourite house,
Which good fortune allows me to call home,
Is where I escape and loose myself,
In a novel, or some historical tome.

The room, almost square, hushed by walls of thick stone,
Looks to the mountain that protects it so well,
And its old well trodden, polished wood floor,
Must have many a tale it could tell.

Now shelves filled with books, pages full of words,
Sit in anticipation of their turn to be read.
And in my winged back chair I can often be found,
When I’ve swapped my garden for a good book instead.

Reference books nestle alongside those full of verse,
And novels, classic and modern, abound;
The history of the world is there to explore,
While biographies wait to be found.

A room filled with riches, of literary treasures,
Some, their secrets have yet to be told,
And it’s there, with the books, that I immerse myself,
And let the magic around me unfold.

Pecan Tree

One of the joys of early winter is the taste of fresh pecan nuts…

A neighbour’s pecan tree
Hangs over the garden wall,
And each year I gather the nuts,
That in my garden fall.
But they’re not all for me,
That harvest hanging there,
As with the local hornbills,
The crop I always share;
And they do have an advantage,
Those hornbills, over me,
Being able to reach the pecans
Still hanging on the tree.
So while I patiently wait
For my pecan nuts to drop,
My clever feathered friends
Are able to browse and to shop.

TPOTG Pecan Nuts Frame 01

Some years there’s not so many,
If the pecan crop is small,
Then my black and white visitors
Leave so very few to fall.
But I don’t mind about that,
As their needs are more than mine,
And the few they always leave behind
Will simply suit me fine.
But this year was a bumper crop,
Pecan nuts are everywhere,
And so there have been plenty
For the birds and I to share.
Pecan butter, candied pecans,
What a treat I’ve got in store,
Freshly made from the pecan nuts,
From my neighbour’s tree next door.

They’re Watching Me – But Who’s Watching Them?

Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Who’s watching me, who should I call?
Asked the government, but they refused to discuss.
Won’t say who watches the watchers who are watching us?

They’re watching me,
But who’s watching them?
The endless government surveillance
It’s time to stem,
What’s private to me
IS private to me,
And it’s not what I want
Some government employee to see.

Will Scribe Surveilance 01

Conversations that I have
Why do they need to record?
Have they nothing better to do
Are they getting bored?
My e-mails and my texts
They also scan;
To take control my life,
Do they have a plan?

CCTV cameras watch me
Where ever I go;
Where ever I am
They seem desperate to know.
To help prevent crime,
Is the government’s claim,
But more police on the streets
Would achieve just the same.

So how do they process
Their information haul?
How do they catergorise my privacy
Through which they constantly trawl?
With all my private life stored
On some government file,
With my personal rights to freedom
How does that reconcile?

And all of this information,
Who controls how it’s used?
How do we know
It’s not being abused?
Perhaps it’s being collected
For some dubious intention,
That’s not on the list
That governments mention?

My personal freedom
No longer mine to enjoy,
As new methods to watch me
They continually employ.
It’s for national security,
That’s what they pretend,
Taking away the very rights
That they claim to defend;

Yet this desire to watch everyone,
To record everything,
Caused them to miss 9/11
And that terrorist ring.
If their fetish for spying
Had been less intense,
They would have been more effective
In that nation’s defence!

At the end of the day
Our apathy’s to blame,
We used to be fighters,
But now we are tame;
We’re just too accepting
We never demand why;
So when the government says jump,
All we can ask is “How high?”

June 2015

From the Classroom – The Silencing of the Lambs

“Not since the days of the Hitler Youth have young people been subjected to more propaganda on more politically correct issues. At one time educators boasted that their role was not to teach students what to think, but how to think. Today their role is far too often to teach students what to think on everything from immigration to global warming to the new sacred trinity of ‘race, class and gender'”
Thomas Sowell

TPOTG Lambs Silenced Good morning my little lambs,
How are you all today?
Sit up and pay attention,
Please put your phones away.
Before we start our lesson,
Johnny won’t be coming back to school,
He has broken what is perhaps
Our most sacred golden rule.
He used the forbidden word “why”
In class yesterday,
And we all know that’s a word
We must never ever say.
So he’s being sent to a special school,
With those similarly infected,
And we send him our best wishes,
And hope he gets politically corrected.
Now back to our lesson, see I have written
“Free Speech”, there on the board,
And our lesson for today
Is why that should be ignored.
I’m here to teach you what to think,
All you’ll ever need to know,
So any unnecessary free speaking
Will help confusion flourish and grow,
And if we all become confused,
Well, that’s a very bad idea,
And that’s the reason why free speech
Is something to fear.
So there you are my little lambs,
Why your silence you must always keep,
Then you will all grow up to become
Nice, obedient little sheep.

Garden Talk

The garden has so many visitors….how can you not talk to them?

TPOTG Old Man Talking to Birds

My garden’s a haven for visitors,
Uncaged and always free to roam,
Bringing me such beauty and colour,
I’m so lucky when they share my home.

I know they haven’t come to see me,
They come for the bounty that’s here on hand,
I can forgive them, then, when they ignore me,
For why they’re here I do understand.

Still I like to give them all greetings,
The polite thing to do, don’t you think?
As I watch them busily feeding,
Or taking a bath, or having a drink.

I have conversations with butterflies,
And daily I have long talks with bees,
And I chat away constantly with the birds,
Who chat back, perched up in their trees.

And, naturally, I talk to my plants,
Encouraging them all to grow,
Because of my plants my visitors visit,
And without them they’d surely all go.

So if you’re passing by Stone Cottage,
See an old man speaking to no one at all,
He’ll just be in conversation with his plants,
Or with the visitors who have come to call.

May 2020

The Lawnmower Bird

Is it a lawnmower or is it a bird…….?

TPOTG Lawnmower Frame 01

In Bedford’s quiet streets
Can often be heard
The whirr, whirr, whirring
Of the lawnmower bird.
A solitary creature,
It moves around on its own,
Eating away
At the grass that has grown,
Especially after the rain
Has awakened tired roots
And fed them with nutrients
To produce new green shoots.

Never at night
Will you hear this bird stirring,
As it rests in its shelter,
Tired out from its whirring.
And not every day
Does this strange bird appear,
And during the winter
The sightings are rare.

Its plumage favours green,
Although sometimes it’s red,
And black ones are seen,
So I’ve heard it said.
Some leave a smell,
While others trail a cord,
Usually accompanied by a man
Who appears to be bored.

So there you have it,
There’s no more to tell
About the lawnmower birds
That in Bedford do dwell.

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this: